Port Royal
by merick
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night in Port Royale, what is a lonely, bored Vampire to do? Or who? Just a little bit of fun and fluff. (And a lemon or two)


Port Royale

It was a dark and stormy night in Port Royale, what is a lonely, bored Vampire to do? Or who?

The wind had only just started to howl around the place, least-ways, I could hear it even if the few others in the room couldn't; and they would soon enough. I'd folded myself into a dark corner; as I often did in those days when Godric and I were travelling. I liked to observe the human condition, especially out of the European comfort zone where I'd spent my first few hundred years. This trip had exposed me to a different class of humans, at least different by name since I had observed that humanity had only a few archetypes and minor deviations on them, (Very minor deviations). The people we had travelled with to this island had called themselves Privateers, licensed by the crown to sail the seas and attack enemy read Spanish) vessels. Enemy was another relative term, and looking back on it, it seemed the practice saved the crown money and naval officers, and the risks inherent with such things. So here I sat, in a dingy tavern, quickly emptying of its patrons as yet another tropical storm approached. Godric had left me behind for the evening as he sought out an audience with the Vampire king of the island so as to announce our arrival and pay the niceties that were required at such visits. I was not so good at niceties, I am probably still not, I prefer to remain silent which does nothing to stroke the egos of those who feel they are above me.

"Excuse me Captain," the voice had a beautiful lilt to it, the accent of the island, musical and familiar all at the same time. I looked up to the lady who was speaking to me. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your ship? Prepare it for the coming storm?"

It wasn't the first time that night that I had seen her, but it was the first time I'd actually looked at her; prior to that moment she'd been more a part of the décor than the entertainment. She'd put a mug of ale in front of me, and a shot of rum and taken the copper coins I'd pushed across the table. Her eyes were wide and a dark brown, framed with thick lashes. Her skin was what I would now call 'latte', like coffee with cream. Her father, likely, had been white, one of these privateers no doubt, her mother a native islander. A faint blush could be seen in her cheeks, her full lips curled in a pleasant enough smile. She was in her early twenties perhaps: not hardened by the port yet; at least not entirely.

"I am not a Captain my dear."

"Then surely you are a first mate and tasked with the safety of your ship and cargo?"

"No, not that either."

"An Officer?"

"Or that." I grinned at her. It was fun to tease and I was in a mood to do just that.

Port Royal was a haven for privateers, and those who served them. And as tensions rose in crews, and egos and ire were fed, privateers and crews turned to more lucrative flags, and finding a face or two missing from your crew manifest on the day you sailed was practically expected, as was finding the occasional body in the harbor. So I was well fed, just not well satisfied. I could see an end to that need in the frustrated glimmer of those brown eyes.

"Have you nowhere to hunker down in this storm good sir?"

"Perhaps I do." My grin grew even larger, my eyes narrower.

"Then you had best get to it sir."

"I intend to." And standing I began to remove my coat, not button it up against the wind and rain. We were the only two left in the tavern, though I thought that perhaps I could hear another faint heartbeat somewhere in the building.

"You presume to stay here this night? And what? Sleep on the table, or perhaps under it?"

"That is not at all what I intend." I moved to place the table behind me, and nothing between us but the washrag in her left hand and the pewter ale mug in her right. Hands occupied I leaned in with little concern for my bodily safety and kissed her quite firmly on her mouth, pulling back with a bit of a laugh. "You would not put me out on such a night would you? I could pay handsomely for your hospitality." Reaching into the pocket of my pants I pulled forth one of several gold coins and held it up for her to see.

"I think you misunderstand the services provided in this establishment sir."

"Eric. And I think you misunderstand me. You have a child to support do you not?" That heartbeat upstairs was quite rapid, and not so loud as an adult's, I made the assumption. "Where is your husband?"

"Dead, this past year, the misadventure of drunkards and firearms."

"I am sorry for your loss."

"Don't be. The firearm was his."

"And he has left you with a child and a tavern?"

"He has."

"And little comfort I expect."

"Precious little."

"Then perhaps I can offer you some?"

"For a gold coin?"

"Only to pay for a warm bed, not the company therein."

"So the company is free?"

"Oh, I will pay for that in other ways. Trust me." I smiled, curling up the right edge of my lips. My fangs were practically tingling with the exciting discourse.

"Perhaps I should just properly bolt the doors against the storm then?" She said with raised eyebrows.

"One would do well to ensure that no one interrupts us."

"I see. Well then, make yourself useful and lock up the front door, I'll see to the windows."

Her attitude impressed me. It was not too many women at that time who ran businesses on their own, (though many raised children without much help from their men), and it was fewer still who stood up to a man such as myself, easily a foot taller than her. I intended to take advantage of that attitude. Bolting the front door with a rather substantial iron rod embedded in the jam, and extinguishing the last of the lamps in the tavern, I followed her up the stairs behind the bar proper, watching as her hips swayed naturally with every step. Oh I longed to grab up those hips and direct them to my desires.

"And where am I to sleep then good lady?"

"There is a room on the right Eric. Make yourself comfortable, and I shall find you something to keep you warm." She handed me the lamp she had carried to light her way.

"I sincerely hope you will."

The room was a decent size, and equipped with a fireplace, so I built it up. A spark from the oil lamp lit it, and in moments it was crackling happily. I stripped off my shirt and tossed it over the single chair in the room, letting the flames warm my skin and my hands.

"Well, don't you cut a fine figure?" I turned to meet her grin in the doorway.

"I would like to say the same of you." I took a step or two towards her, "But you are wearing altogether too many articles of clothing."

She took a step towards me, closing the door behind herself softly.

"And what is it you'd like me to take off then?" Her eyes absolutely sparkled in the glow of the fire. I was aware, and yet not aware of the winds beginning to whip at the windows. "My hat perhaps." She pulled off her cap with a flourish and tossed it towards my shirt. "Your turn again."

"Well that isn't exactly fair is it?"

"I didn't think we'd negotiated for 'fair' as well as the bed."

"You are quite the business-woman." I leaned against the bed and slipped off both my boots.

"And you speak of fairness Eric?"

"I don't even know your name, how can I reveal myself to you so completely without it?" I know my voice didn't sound as innocent as the look on my face meant to convey.

"Laetitia." She pulled off her apron.

"Laetitia. Beautiful. It means joy in Latin."

"Does it now?" She tapped her foot, smirking at me.

"Ah yes." I only had one remaining article of clothing, and though I was not at all shy, I sensed that she was possibly getting the best of me; an odd feeling. But I undid the three buttons at my waist and let my pants drop to the ground, announcing, "Now I need to see more of you."

She assessed my assets leisurely, smiling. Being so examined raised my ire a little, and I closed the distance between us, pressed myself against her hips and took her face in my hands, tipping it up to meet a very hungry mouth. She surrendered that much to me. When I clutched her close she trembled just once before she composed herself. It made me quite intent on undoing her completely. I had her apron off before the kiss was broken, and her waistcoat before she caught her breath. It was my turn to grin as the freed corseting let her ample breasts fall naturally; which did not take away from their delicate heaving as she drew breaths.

"Now that is better."

Next I took hold of the ties of her skirt and pulled them roughly free. The folds of her skirt joined my pants on the floor and she stood before me in her white shift.

"Are you warm enough Laetitia?"

"I am."

"Then it must be me that is making you shiver."

I put my hands on those hips, and with little effort, lifted her from her feet, spinning about to lay her back on the bed. From there I crawled over her, making certain that my naked manhood pushed against the fabric of her shift, so she could see just how hard I was for her.

"And do be careful." I ran my hand up her leg, pushing the cotton upwards, exposing her skin to the warm air of the fire, and to my desires. "You wouldn't want to wake your son." I pushed my fingers between her legs, and she bucked against me, rubbing me in just the right spot. "Mmmm. What a tease you are mistress Laetitia" Her protest was lost in my throat as I kissed her hard, and pushed even more insistently with my fingers.

It took no time to bring her to my level of arousal and the heavy scent of her filled the small room, magnified by the heat of the fire and the salt on her skin. But I was not ready to enter her just yet; I wanted her to be desperate for me. So I left off the yearning between her legs, and busied my hands slipping her gathered bodice off her shoulders, exposing those ample breasts to my mouth. I rolled their centers into hard nubs with my tongue, chancing to scratch just a little to taste her blood. I was well fed, I didn't need it, but teasing myself to excitement only made the game that much more enjoyable for me. The fact that her hands held me in place only served to stroke my ego even more. And she was making a point of grinding her hips against my rod. It was all rather delightful, but I did want her out of that shift. It tore easily with my teeth. She began to protest the ruin but I put my fingers between her legs again and she lost the will to do anything but breathe in stutters and bite at her lips.

When I gave her a moment to regain her self-control her hands reached for me, which required a bit of contortionism on her part considering our difference in height. The strain was worth it, at least as far as I was concerned; she had a powerful grip and a certain skill; I bit back my own moans and allowed myself to be selfishly indulgent. A little more acrobatics brought me to her entrance, the deed contingent on the thrust of one set of hips. It was mine as I buried myself in her.

The year of not being provided for had left her in a particularly exciting condition; given the nature of most women I encountered at that time. I took great delight in how she grasped me tightly as I worked her body. She seemed to enjoy it as well, arching into every thrust to take me as deeply as she was able; my cock was well provided for. Despite that the constant clutch though, I held out against spilling my seed too quickly; it was far too delightful to waste the short time I had with her. At least it was until she began to twist her hips against me. Then there was little choice on my part. I drove myself into the hilt as I felt the pulse beginning, clutching her body against mine so that she could not escape me in any way as I filled her recesses with my passions.

Temporarily satisfied within myself I rolled over to bring her body atop mine, enjoying the feel of her slick skin against me. I let my hips rock lazily against her, watching her eyes close and her lips part to allow needed breaths. The curves of her body were delightful to my eyes, the shadows even more so. I coaxed her down to me for a very deep kiss, her breasts heaving against my chest as I did so.

When I released her from my arms' grasp she sat up, quite firmly astride me and began to rock against my still embedded cock with a grin on her face. I liked this little minx very much, and so I ran my hands up the inside of her thighs, and parted her nether lips with my thumbs, beginning to massage her exposed core with the slick juices thereon. She kept up her rhythm even as the moans slipped from that long throat, bared so enticingly for me. It was a good thing for her that my hungers rested further south than my fangs. I let her take me as she wished; taking her right along with me. That time I made her come first.

When she was spent I held her in my arms, against the tussled bedclothes, my member still hard, but her body quite used up by my adoration. I could smell the faint blood tingeing the air around her, my girth having had its inevitable consequence, not that she complained. Settling her in a blanket I once again exposed her legs to my attentions, but this time I used my mouth.

With a careful tongue I soothed her, taking in the blood, healing her as I tore my own flesh to bathe her and rejuvenate her. Her gentle sighs were music to me over the raging rain. When I thought she was very nearly asleep I left those ministrations, kissed her softly on the forehead and went in search of my trousers.

"Don't leave Eric. The storm is at its peak. Lay abed with me for a few more hours."

How could I say no?

When I did depart, well before sunrise, and well after she had truly drifted off, I left the gold coin on the pillow by her head, and left her memories, and my own, quite intact.


End file.
